“I hurt,” he said. “Hold me. I need to cry.”
“Hurt?” she said. “I can’t help you there. I have known pain, and I have learned that it is the ultimate loneliness. No one can take it away; no one can share it. You can write it down on paper, sing it to a crowd, or scream it at the heavens, but the hurt remains. And the worst pain of all is realizing, after the stab is over and you find breath again, the pain was only the result of your own mistake. You hurt? I cannot help you there.”
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